


Idiot

by shutuprichie (Hyunjins_lipring)



Category: IT (2017), IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Warning: Underage Drinking, the Losers get drunk, this is basically just Richie thinking Eddie is the cutest boy in the whole world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 03:29:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20753606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyunjins_lipring/pseuds/shutuprichie
Summary: Richie wanted more than anything to be Eddie’s idiot, exclusively.





	Idiot

“What the fuck? That tastes like shit!” Eddie squealed after struggling to swallow the raspberry flavored vodka he had just poured down his throat. 

“Well, no one actually drinks it for the taste,” Beverly responded, refilling the seven shot glasses on the coffee table with more of the deceivingly sweet-smelling liquor. 

It was the first night of summer after junior year, and the Losers were gathered in Ben’s finished basement, his parents out of town until morning. Beverly had managed to get ahold of some cheap liquor using a fake ID, and had designated herself as bartender for the night. 

At he sat on the worn, suede couch, Richie glanced around the room at his friends, some of whom were handling the alcohol better than others. Beverly kept her composure as she swallowed the clear liquid with ease, which didn't surprise Richie all that much. He was sure this wasn't her first time getting drunk, not that he was judging. Next to Beverly was Ben, who was making hardcore heart-eyes in her direction. The other boys all knew about his massive crush on Beverly, and Richie wondered if tonight was the night he would finally make a move. Stanley’s reaction to the alcohol shocked Richie the most, due to the fact that the curly-haired boy was currently setting up a karaoke machine he had found in the coat closet. Bill and Mike began excitedly shouting out song requests, giggling for no reason at their own suggestions. 

Richie lifted the miniature glass from the table in front of him and downed his third shot of the night, already feeling the affects of the alcohol taking hold in his bloodstream. His skin felt warm and tingly, and his thoughts slightly fuzzy. Next to him, Eddie sat cross legged, staring into his filled shot glass with glossy eyes. He slowly brought the glass up to his lips and took tiny, careful sips of the liquor. Richie watched with a smirk as Eddie winced after every sip, screwing his eyes shut and scrunching his nose. 

When Eddie finally finished, Richie chuckled and put his arm around the boy’s shoulders. “Havin’ some trouble, Eds?” 

“Shut up, Richie,” Eddie snapped. “This stuff is disgusting. I don't see why people like drinking so much.”

“It just makes things more fun, I guess,” Richie explained. “Loosens you up.”

“Yeah, well, I don't like feeling ‘loose.’ And get your arm off of me,” Eddie sneered, shrugging away from Richie’s touch. Richie didn't take it personally, though. He knew that Eddie often didn't like to be touched, and he respected that. However, that didn't stop Richie from sometimes wishing things could be different between them. 

The two of them had been best friends since first grade, when their teacher had asked Richie to walk Eddie to the school nurse after an asthma attack. Richie was able to keep Eddie calm by holding his hand the entire way there, and after that, Richie had felt a tremendous responsibility to always protect Eddie. He would do anything to make his best friend happy, which often led him to do some pretty stupid and even dangerous things. Eddie would then glare at Richie and shake his head, calling him an idiot. But the fondness in his eyes would always cause Richie’s heart to skip a beat, and he wanted more than anything to be Eddie’s idiot, exclusively. 

* * *

A couple of hours into the night, Richie remained in his spot on the couch, watching a wasted Stanley dance emphatically around the basement as he sang off-key along to the karaoke machine. Both Bill and Mike were now lying on the floor, laughing hysterically at Stanley’s antics. 

Richie’s brow furrowed, his eyes catching Ben and Beverly as they disappeared into the bathroom together, closing the door behind them. Before Richie could speculate too much about what those two were up to, Eddie dropped himself into his lap, sitting sideways and wrapping his arms around Richie’s waist. 

“I'm tired,” Eddie slurred, nuzzling his face into the crook of the taller boy’s neck. 

‘So Eddie's a sleepy drunk,’ Richie thought affectionately. ‘And very touchy. How ironic.’

Richie wrapped his long arms around the boy's narrow frame, goosebumps rising on his skin as he felt Eddie's warm breath tickle his neck. As much as he teased Eddie for it, Richie adored how small his best friend was. Eddie fit perfectly in his embrace, and Richie closed his eyes to fully enjoy the moment. 

Whenever he was with Eddie, Richie was home. They understood each other better than anyone else. Richie had always appreciated Eddie’s ability to keep up with his sarcasm, and even bite back with a few sharp words of his own. Their friendship meant the world to Richie, and he felt like the luckiest 17-year-old in the world to have Eddie in his life. 

Suddenly, Richie felt a lump in his throat, his eyes becoming wet. Was he seriously crying right now? He had never considered himself the sentimental type, so he blamed his overly emotional state on the booze. Richie attempted to wipe away the tears with the sleeve of his oversized sweatshirt before Eddie could notice, but it seemed to be too late. 

Eddie slowly lifted his head from Richie’s shoulder. “Are you crying?” he asked quietly, looking at Richie with a confused yet concerned expression. 

Richie sniffled, his heart beating a mile a minute as he lost himself in Eddie’s large, dark brown eyes. Richie had to admit, Eddie was pretty cute. No, scratch that. Eddie was absolutely adorable. Richie reached up to brush away a loose strand of Eddie’s otherwise perfect hair off of his freckled forehead, letting his palm rest against the boy’s flushed cheek. Eddie gnawed nervously on his lips, which matched the color of his rosy pink polo shirt. Richie felt the urge to lean in and bite those lips himself. 

Before Richie’s drunk brain could even process what was happening, Eddie pressed his lips hard against his own. Richie suddenly felt chillingly sober, the hand on Eddie's cheek falling. The kiss was stiff, and it ended just as abruptly as it had begun. Eddie quickly pulled away, panic written across his face. 

“Fuck, I'm so sorry, I thought - you were just - the way you were looking at me…” Eddie raised his hands to cover his embarrassed face. “I thought you wanted me to kiss you,” he mumbled, the sound muffled. 

Richie’s shocked eyes softened when he heard Eddie's breathing pick up. The last thing Richie needed was for Eddie to have an asthma attack after their first kiss. He grabbed Eddies hands, gently pulling them away from the boy's face and holding them in his lap. Eddie just stared back at him with sad puppy eyes that made Richie weak. 

Unable to think of a proper response, Richie leaned forward, capturing Eddie’s lips in a passionate kiss. Richie kissed him slowly and confidently, making damn sure Eddie knew just how much he had wanted this. Eddie’s lips were so soft, and they tasted like his medicated lip balm. It should have been gross, but it was just so inherently ‘Eddie,’ and Richie couldn't get enough. 

Eddie squeezed Richie’s hands, finally kissing back with an equal amount of enthusiasm. Richie was so overwhelmed, his mental and physical capacities completely taken over by the boy in his lap. With a short giggle, he broke the kiss, brushing his nose against Eddie's. He was relieved that everyone in the room was too drunk to be paying any attention to the two of them, because they would all definitely make fun the sappy grin plastered on Richie’s face. 

“Was that your first kiss?” Richie whispered. 

“Yeah,” Eddie answered, catching his breath. “You?”

“Not including your mom?” Richie asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Eddie glared at him and shook his head. “You're an idiot.”

Richie lifted one of Eddie's hands up to his lips, placing a light kiss to his knuckles. “But I'm your idiot, right?”

Blushing, Eddie rested his head comfortably back on Richie’s shoulder. 

“Right.”


End file.
